Peter and the Stranger
by To Whomever it May Concern
Summary: My take on the scene in Spiderman 2 where Peter sees the stranger getting beat up in an alley. I thought they'd be a cute couple and decideded to write a fic about it. I hope it doesnt suck. This is my first multi-chapter fic ever and first uploaded fic. M/M, rated M for slash later on and language throughout.


**AN: I stupidly forgot to mention that this is an OC as well as my first published fic. Try to enjoy it. Constuctive critisism accepted. Please no flames. **

**Disclaimer: I only own James, everything else belongs to its/their rightful creator/owner.**

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Peter desperately wanted to help the guy, but he had given up on Spiderman. He looked away, denying the temptation of helping, despite the man's yells. Temptations are hard to hold back. He looked again. The two men that had beaten him up were gone. Peter jogged over. The stranger was bleeding and his glasses were beyond repair on the ground.

"Uh, hi, do you need help?" he stuck out his hand. "Peter Parker."

"James Monroe. Hi."

James grabbed his bag and stuffed the remains of the glasses into it. He held onto Peter's hand and lifted himself up.

"Thanks."

"Do you mind if I walk with you? I really have nothing better to do."

"Oh, yeah, sure, go ahead," James said with a breathtaking smile.

Peter looked at him. His hair was a disheveled, mousy brown mess, he was skinny and tall. He appeared to be about Peter's age. James was squinting to see, but even so, Peter could see the startlingly emerald green eyes behind full, dark lashes. The man was fucking beautiful. He unconsciously gasped.

"What? I-is there something on my face? Other than blood?"

"N-no. Uh, there was this, uh, rare bird. Behind you."

Peter pointed off somewhere behind James and realized that, once again, he was making a fool of himself.

"Do you want to go get a drink?" Peter asked, giving up on excuses.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Do you need some glasses? I have a spare."

"Yeah, I'll see if they work."

Peter took the old pair of glasses out of his pocket and hoped they worked. He handed them to James and the other man put them on.

"They're perfect. Thanks again," James said with another smile.

"No problem."

They found a nearby bar and Peter ordered the cheapest thing. All the mattered was the alcohol, right? He dug through is pockets for any spare cash. James held his arm still.

"I got it. Okay?"

"Okay," Peter said reluctantly. "I'll repay as soon as I can."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, I won't let you. I'm paying this time," James said, waving his hand in the air.

"This time?"

"What about 'this time'?"

"You said 'I'm paying _this time_'. Implying this would happen again."

"Oh. Do you _want_ it to happen again?"

"I-I guess."

"Okay. Let's make it a date then."

Peter looked at him, eyes wide.

"I mean, let's...uh, make a date for it."

Peter remained staring at James incredulously.

"God, I am really not good at this, am I? I'll just spit it out. Do you want to go out with me?"

"Uh, ummmm..."

"Sorry. Oh god. I feel like an idiot now. I should just leave, shouldn't I?"

James made to get up.

"No! No, stay. I-I'd... we hardly know each other."

Peter wanted to go out with James. Really badly, in fact. He had no idea why he was making such a fool of himself.

"We can get to know each other then."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, gathered his courage, and practically yelled, "I'd love to go out with you!"

"Really?"

James was very quiet. Almost whispering.

"Yeah."

Peter opened his eyes to find a lot of nearby people staring at him. He heard people murmuring things like, "Fag", "Go find a gay bar", "Fucking faggot". He hadn't had to deal with those things since he was in middle school. Then, though, he didn't really understand how few accepted bisexuality, and even less to homosexuality (he was glad he wasn't the latter).

"So when do you want to...you know...go out?" James knocked him out of his thoughts.

"What time is it?"

"Fifteen past five."

"Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"I was supposed to be at the graveyard with my aunt a half an hour ago! Give me your number!"

James scribbled something onto a napkin and handed it to Peter.

"Thanks! I'll call you! We can decide then!" Peter said as he ran out the front door of the bar.

"Goodbye, Peter Parker," James whispered to himself.

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**I know i have gotten two favourites on this, but I'm thinking of deleting it at the beginning of October. I really don't know how to end it and no longer have the will to continue it. If someone would like, they can use this as a prompt/starter to a story or even continue it for me. I want to thank Icheishier and inanotheruniverse007 for favouriting my story. I really appreciate it, guys! **

**Please leave a comment here or send me a PM saying I should re-find my muse and continue or ditch the story altogether. **

**-LoveLost**


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